


Respite

by KoreBeneath



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Confessions, Conversations, Developing Relationship, Drabble, Established Relationship, Feel-good, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Short, Spoilers, not sure if this counts as angst but i guess im tagging it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoreBeneath/pseuds/KoreBeneath
Summary: Work without rest can wear down even the mightiest warrior. Even to those tied to their duty, the idea of resting with a lover is tempting...
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 296





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a quick thing I wrote to try mixing the style of Hades' narration with my own writing style, as well as to just have fun with the characters. 
> 
> NOTE: Do not read if you have not reached the credits/post credits. There are major spoilers that are casually brought up in this.

The Prince Zagreus flit through the gates of Elysium, leaving embers and scorch marks in his wake. Though he had made his way up through the dark crevices of the Underworld hundreds of times before, the beauty of Elysium never escaped him. This, he considered, was the region that most looked like the world above- the wind rustling through the soft grass, the light masquerading as sunlight shining through the cracks of the cavern walls, the mist of the river pooling over the banks. Indeed, the Prince found himself wondering how life must be like for those who spent their peaceful afterlives here. His heart and body belonged to the House far below, yet his thoughts often strayed to these flights of fancy.

“Am I not allowed to wish for a vacation from time to time?” Zagreus mused out loud, casting his gaze upwards towards a speaker he can sometimes hear yet cannot see. He wiped sweat from his brow and blood from his bow. He is fortunate that he never has to worry about running out of arrows, like the mortals do above.

Zagreus did not dislike his new job. Indeed, he rather enjoyed continuing to wreak havoc in his father’s domain. Deep within, his blood boils, urging him to fight. Those unknowing would call it “a bad temper” or “anger issues.” But Zagreus, though prone to snapping back, does not hold any irrational rage. His blood boils, and thus he must fight. That is how he was born. 

But even gods of blood must rest.

This is why Zagreus took a second to himself before entering the next gate, stretching out his sore muscles. The previous encounter had taken a toll upon him, leaving the Prince with many shallow wounds. In return, the Prince left them dead.

Zagreus played with the two baubles he tied onto his belt. His fingers brushed over the trinket’s surface; the soft fur of the plush mouse, the silky petals of the pomegranate blossom- momentos of the two most dear to his heart.

 _Speaking of hearts, I hope there’s a fountain in the next room_ , the Prince Zagreus thought dryly as he opened the next gate, rubbing a large bruise on his side.

But the Fates are wily, and there was no fountain to be seen in the chamber beyond.

Chewing his lip in frustration, Zagreus cast his gaze around the chamber, surveying the many traps and the Well of Charon in one corner, trying to locate the newest wave of Elysium warriors.

A large bell resounded throughout the cavern. Zagreus’ heart leapt and he turned as-

“Death approaches.” 

Thanatos appeared as Death Incarnate usually did- suddenly, from glyphs of purple smoke. He was turned slightly, looking at the Prince over one shoulder, scythe gleaming in Elysium’s dim blue light.

“Hi, Than.” Zagreus gave Thanatos a wide grin, drawing his bow. “Could use the help.” 

A smile tugged at the corner of Thanatos mouth, a momentary break through Death’s normal devoid expression. “I thought you might.”

After all the previous escape attempts, the Prince Zagreus was quite proficient at destroying his father’s property and spirits, to the point in which Zagreus took on extra punishment to give himself a challenge and save himself from falling into a bored repetition. As he fought alongside Thanatos, he found himself wondering if he had maybe gone too far this time. Elysium’s warriors were too strong, refusing to fall even after a multitude of blows. Their attacks sunk into the Prince’s flesh, taking one, two, three chances at revival. 

If Zagreus was honest with himself, he would admit that his heart was not in the fight, his gaze drifting away from the enemy and towards his ally.

 _Well, this blows_ , Zagreus thought as he watched Thanatos slice down the final foe. Their score was thirteen to six, Death seizing victory. Weak, Zagreus took the few coins that dropped from above. A useless reward. He knew he would not survive the next chamber.

“What’s going on Zag? I haven’t seen you lose like this.” Thanatos drifted towards the Prince, his toes brushing against the tall grass. With a flourish, he set his scythe on his back and crossed his arms.

Zagreus replied with a shrug. “Honestly, I’m not sure,” he said, which was not honest, as he knew exactly what had happened. “Guess I gave myself too much of a challenge.”

Thanatos tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. His changes in expression were subtle, invisible to strangers, but Zagreus learned to read them over the years of living in the same House. Death was not one to show emotion, as it would prevent him from his duty, yet he still felt it all the same. It was just hidden in the depths of his heart, carefully concealed.

Concealed to all but Zagreus, of course.

“What? Don’t believe me?” Zagreus made his bow vanish and stretched his arms wide, leaning back.

“No,” Thanatos replied. His tone and attitude were blunt, yet that single word was so sharp. “When would you ever willingly admit that you took on too much? It’s not like you, Zag.”

With a sigh of frustration, Zagreus ran both hands through his hair, a habit originating from his youth. He walked away from Thanatos and towards the edge of the river, leaning against a column as he looked down into the unfathomable depths of the waters. “I don’t know, Than. Do you ever grow tired of work?”

Thanatos drifted to stand next to the Prince. “It’s not just work. It’s my duty. Shades need to be brought down here, and I am the only one who can do that. I cannot tire of it.”

Zagreus’ green eye flickered up to Thanatos. That eye made an impression upon Thanatos. It was the only cool color in Zagreus’ appearance. A spark of green life amongst the crimson dead. It was the only physical resemblance that Zagreus had to the Queen, the rest belonged to his father. Yet, despite not meeting her until recently, Zagreus had the Queen’s most valuable quality- her kind heart. It was that heart that made Zagreus linger within the mind of Death, even long before they became close. 

“Do you not get tired, or do you refuse to admit you’re tired?” Zagreus asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Thanatos pulled himself out from his brief moment of distraction. “If I shirk my duty, there will be consequences,” he stated.

“Like what, giving Hermes overtime?” Zagreus asked with a wry smile.

“Your father will not be pleased,” Thanatos clarified. 

“When is he ever?” Zagreus countered.

“Are you implying something?”

With an exaggerated deep breath, Zagreus stretched his arms up, then sat down upon the bank of the river, leaning back against the column. Eyes closed, he pat the ground next to him.

“You want me to shirk my duty,” Thanatos deduced.

“Mmhm.” The Prince patted the ground next to him again.

Thanatos sighed. “You know I can’t do that, Zag.”

Without a word, Zagreus reached into the void-like space where he kept his items and pulled out a large rectangular bottle. Eyes still shut, a small yet cocky smile upon his face, Zagreus made a big show of pulling out the cork. A loud _pop_ echoed throughout the chamber, followed by the sticky-sweet smell of Ambrosia. Although Lord Hades had deemed the drink contraband, no one in the Underworld could resist the rich flavor. Not even Death.

From behind closed eyes, Zagreus heard the gentle thud of Thanatos landing upon the ground. He heard the shuffling of cloth and grass, the thunk of heavy metal jewelry discarded, then felt the comforting warmth of another by his side.

“You’d better make it worth my while,” Thanatos told Zagreus. Both of them knew his words, though harsh, was in jest. However, there was a connotation to his words that Thanatos did not intend. A connotation that Zagreus was happy to exploit.

“Are _you_ implying something?” Zagreus opened his green eye, holding the bottle just out of reach.

Thanatos’ expression remained stoic, but underneath he felt a panicked embarrassment, and both of them knew it. “Do not mince my words, Zag.”

The Prince Zagreus wrapped his free arm around Thanatos, nuzzling his cheek against the other’s. “I’m just teasing, Than. You know I am.” 

A comfortable silence settled over the two, the sounds of the rushing river and gentle breeze only punctuated by the clink of the glass decanter. Ambrosia is not like the alcohol that mortals delight in. It does not rob one of their senses, leaving them devoid of agency. It fills the drinker with a warmth like happiness; a feeling of joy and fulfillment that lingers for a while after it has been consumed. As a single sip can bring a smile to one’s face, the entire bottle left our two Chthonic deities blissfully resting against one another, fingers intertwined, dozing off into a peaceful half-slumber.

Zagreus set down the empty bottle, hand hovering over the ground before plucking a white flower. Brushing the hair out of his lover’s face, Zagreus tucked the flower behind Thanatos’ ear.

Death Incarnate opened his eyes, brows furrowed in sleepy confusion. “What are you doing?”

“You look nice,” Zagreus responded. 

“I am Death, Zagreus,” Thanatos reminded his lover.

“And Death can look nice.” Zagreus inherited his stubbornness from both sets of parents, for good or ill. “If I can be attractive all the time, then so can you.”

As Thanatos sat up his hood fell from his head. “You’re saying I’m not attractive all the time.”

“No, that’s not what I meant-” Zagreus was about to defend himself, but stopped when he noticed Thanatos’ subtle smile. The Prince crossed his arms and slumped back against the column. “You’re as sarcastic as I am.”

“It’s a requirement for the House,” replied Thanatos. He closed his eyes for a moment, then heaved himself up onto his feet. “I must be going now.”

“Than, wait-” Zagreus scrambled to his feet. The Prince was not used to Thanatos standing upon the ground, and was surprised to see that he was no longer eye-level with Death, but a few significant inches taller. Thanatos’ forehead reached Zagreus’ mouth, which sent the Prince’s thoughts into sudden fantasies of pressing his lips-

“I really must be going. I’ve wasted enough time as it is.” Thanatos picked up his jewelry.

“Oh, so this was a waste, was it?” Bitterness brought Zagreus back from his thoughts.

Thanatos paused in the middle of sliding his hand into one of his bracers. “That’s not what I meant. We’ll see each other at the House.”

Zagreus ran both hands through his hair. “I barely see you, even then. You’re always working. Can’t you just… I don’t know, take a day off for once?”

“People don’t just stop dying,” Thanatos said, but there was hesitation to his words. 

For eons, Thanatos worked without complaint. He did not hate nor enjoy his work. He was Death. This was what he was meant to do. It was only when he and Zagreus became close did Thanatos feel any sort of need for anything else. Before, he would work day and night, only taking breaks when he had to. Now, suddenly, his heart desired multitudes. When he was above ground, his thoughts went to Zagreus. How was he doing? Did he need his help? Was he rushing through the Underworld like rampant lightning, or were the spirits overwhelming him? When Thanatos was home, he still couldn’t keep his mind quiet. He didn’t dare admit how much he thought of the Prince, standing alone on his balcony, looking down upon Tartarus. He didn’t dare admit how his heart soared when Zagreus approached, even if only for a brief greeting. He didn’t dare admit how he gave up rest a millennia ago, as he did not truly need it, until he found comfort within Zagreus’ arms. Thanatos was Death Incarnate. He wrestled with these new feelings battling against his nature. He was not supposed to love.

Zagreus’ gaze drifted to the ceiling, listening to a voice that Thanatos could not hear. “Is that true?”

Thanatos gave him a confused expression. “What?”

In a surprising twist of fate, Thanatos’ true feelings were revealed to the Prince. Somehow.

With a step forward, Zagreus took both of Thanatos’ hands in his own. “Than… Please…. Stay with me, just for a little while longer.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Thanatos’ forehead. “You’re allowed to rest, you know.”

A low breath escaped Thanatos, like the soul drifting from the body of the departed. His jewelry fell from his hands as he let his arms hang limp at his sides, leaning against Zagreus. “I’m tired, Zagreus.”

At this, Zagreus wrapped both arms around Thanatos, holding him tight, running his fingers through his lover’s hair. How did one so isolated from what most would consider to be “healthy” or “normal” relationships become so gentle and physically affectionate? With every second that passed, tension faded away from Thanatos, until he was fully enveloped in Zagreus’ embrace.

Another thing Thanatos would not admit- his attention often slipped to the Prince’s muscular physique, and he quite liked the protective feeling of those strong arms around him. Death did not need protecting, and never felt unsafe, yet it was a welcome sensation.

If Thanatos could hear the whispers of storytellers as Zagreus could, he’d find out that Zagreus would feel the same.

Thus the two gods returned to their spot on the bank, freeing themselves from all obligation. Zagreus laid with one arm behind his head, Thanatos with one arm across his chest, their free hands intertwined once more. The two talked about the going-ons at the House- Lord Hades’ tight rules, the Queen’s attempts at softening them, Orpheus’ latest popular ballad, the unending amount of renovations to be done. Time does not change in the Underworld as it does above, so neither of them knew how long they spent in that glade, a door away from peril.

“I’ll admit, I’m not used to this,” Thanatos told Zagreus, “I’m unsure if I truly know how to ‘rest.’” 

Zagreus leaned over on one side, propping up on an elbow. “Well, you’re talking to the right person. If I wasn’t the god of blood, I’d be the god of rest, you know.”

“More like the god of slacking off,” Thanatos rebutted.

“If so, then you’d be the god of overworking yourself to death.” Zagreus shrugged. “Hey, if you get lonely on your balcony, you should come see me sometime. Orpheus has been teaching me the lyre, and I think I’m actually getting good.”

“Really? I didn’t take you for the musical type,” Thanatos said, surprised. “I didn’t think you’d have the patience.”

“It’s less of patience and more of stubborn determination,” admitted Zagreus.

“Ah. Now it makes sense.”

Both of them laughed. Thanatos wrapped an arm around Zagreus’ middle, resting his face in the crook of Zagreus’ neck. “Perhaps I will stop by.”

“You’d better,” Zagreus murmured, gently. “No one else wants to listen to my musical-”

The Prince cut himself off and inhaled sharply as Thanatos pressed a deep kiss to his neck, grip around him growing tight. The surprise drew more laughter from Zagreus’ lips, hiding how flustered the sudden gesture made him.

“If I’m stopping by, it’s not just to listen to you tunelessly pluck at a lyre,” Thanatos stated, pulling away to meet the Prince’s gaze. 

Face flushed crimson, Zagreus gave him a wide grin. “What are you stopping by for, then? Sex?”

Thanatos’ stone-cold expression did not change, but red rose to his cheeks as well.

“Do you want me to come over?” he asked.

“Of course. Don’t mind if you join me in bed, either.” Zagreus raised both eyebrows.

Thanatos sighed. “If you don’t watch yourself I may not show up at all.”

Zagreus drew Thanatos close, pressing his forehead against the other’s. “You _love_ me.”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

With that teasing remark, Thanatos drew Zagreus into a kiss. A contented hum escaped Zagreus as his eyes fluttered closed, sinking into the soft grass, resting one hand against his love’s face.

If Zagreus was more eloquent, he would have expressed how firm of a grip Death had upon his heart. How he understood the loneliness, the need for a deep and close connection. Zagreus would confess that he, too had longed for something more, something beyond the day-to-day drivel. He would tell Thanatos that outside of the thoughtless fervor of battle, he would worry about his love. The Prince Zagreus noticed the dark circles under Thanatos’ eyes, see the exhaustion in the way he held himself when standing alone in the House. Zagreus knew, of course he knew- he had known Thanatos for too long not to notice. He knew that to tear Thanatos away from his work would to destroy him, to rob him of purpose, but oh, how he longed to give him respite, to lift some of the weight off his shoulders.

But Zagreus is not eloquent, so what he said is thus:

“I love you too, for the record,” Zagreus murmured. 

Thanatos smiled, and kissed him again. “I know.”

Somehow, those words conveyed more than what was spoken.


End file.
